Don't Let Go
by el spirito
Summary: Tim and Tony find themselves in trouble after a chase goes wrong... Rating for some language and violence
1. Chapter 1

Damn, he hated running. Even where he was, out in the open air, sun streaming down on him, the sound of a river flowing pleasantly to his side…he hated running. McGee knew that Tony loved it, thrived on it even, the feeling of adrenaline and excitement that came with chasing a suspect down. He also knew that right now, DiNozzo was looping around to meet up with him, and he was secretly hoping that Tony would get to the suspect sooner than he did. _Damn_ _it_.

"Stop! NCIS!" He yelled as the suspect came into view, but he'd already yelled it once and it hadn't done anything, so he doubted that it would have any effect this time. It didn't. And then, unexpectedly, it did. The man stopped so abruptly that Tim was caught off guard, unable to anticipate let alone dodge the fist that flew out and clipped him heavily in the jaw. Wheeling, McGee fell off balance, stumbling over himself and tumbling down the hill. He realized as he rolled that Tony was coming into view, screaming his name and ignoring the suspect, running after him. Wondering what the big deal was, everything became frighteningly clear when the ground dropped away and Tim McGee was falling.

xxxx

Tony felt his heart leap into his throat as he saw McGee tumbling down the hillside. With a shout and a curse and with complete disregard for the suspect he was supposed to be apprehending, he launched himself down the hill after his partner, desperately shooting a hand out just as Tim went over the side of the drop-off. Three things happened very quickly. First, he felt immense relief as his hand wrapped around McGee's outstretched arm, but it was replaced almost immediately with a wrenching pain as all of Tim's weight yanked on his shoulder. He screamed as he felt bones grind together but gritted his teeth, thrusting his other hand out to grab something, anything, to keep himself from going over the edge. Reflexively gripping tightly the first thing he felt, he screamed again as he realized it was a thick blackberry bush, then wrapped his hand around the vine a few times, wincing against the pain. His breath came in tight gasps as he struggled to hold all of Tim's weight.

"Tony?" The voice that drifted up to him was scared and thin, and Tony took a second to collect himself as he tried to answer.

"Yeah-Probie," he stammered, the pain in his arm and hand making it difficult to think clearly.

"We're in trouble, Tony," McGee murmured, hand already growing slick with sweat. Tony tightened his grip, though he thought briefly that he might pass out.

"'M not gonna-let go-McGee," he hissed between tightly clenched teeth. DiNozzo could just see his face, eyes wide with terror. _Damn it all to hell…_

"Tony?" DiNozzo wanted to scream as McGee moved, but he realized that Tim was trying to get purchase on the rock face in front of him to get himself some leverage. It wasn't working, and the jostling had Tony shaking with the strain. He ignored the feel of warm blood trickling over his hand, tried not to look down at the river rushing below him, decided it was worth it to try and pull McGee up. A second later and he had tried and failed. He was embarrassed at his own weakness, frustrated as he found himself unable to do anything. They were in a _lot_ of trouble.

"Tony…Maybe you should…let go…" Tim's voice trailed off, but DiNozzo shook his head.

"No-way in-hell," he rasped, but damn it was getting hard to hold on, every inch of his body was starting to feel as if it were on fire, the mild shaking now getting more and more severe. He tried to tighten his grip once more, gasped as he felt McGee slip a fraction more-

"Other hand-too-McGee," he ordered tersely, and could see McGee shake his head.

"Tony, you've got to let go, you're hurt-"

"Other hand!" McGee swung his other hand up and grabbed Tony's arm, and DiNozzo screamed again, loud and long. McGee was shouting something, angrily demanding that Tony let go, pleading and demanding but DiNozzo ignored him, unable to think past the shooting pain and the knowledge that he could, under no circumstances, let go.

"DiNozzo! Let. Go. Now!" He was still ranting, and it was all Tony could do to grind out, "Shut up, Probe." A sudden sound and DiNozzo painfully lifted his head. The suspect they'd been chasing hadn't left, apparently, and judging by the way he was grinning, he was enjoying what he was seeing. Tony opened his mouth, fully intent on telling the man exactly where he should go when the man moved and Tony's hand, already hurting, exploded into full on pain.

"Shit! Shit!" Tony screamed as the man ground his foot into DiNozzo's battered hand. McGee was screaming at him, asking him what was going on, the man was laughing, and Anthony DiNozzo knew that he had a choice to make. His grip on the blackberry bush would fail in a matter of seconds. He could either let go of McGee or go down with him. Closing his eyes, Anthony DiNozzo knew what he was going to do. The foot came down again, the broken fingers were crushed again, and the bloodied hand slipped off the vine. And then two agents were plummeting towards the river below, both yelling but unable to do anything to stop their descent. There was a sudden silence as they splashed into the river, leaving behind only ripples as evidence they'd ever been there.

A/N: So this kind of just popped into my head…Sorry about the cliffhanger! (Or not.)


	2. Chapter 2

The water was freezing and stole Tim's breath away as soon as he hit it. He quickly kicked himself to the surface, spluttering and spitting out water. He gasped and flailed for a second, his entire body screaming from the drop.

"Tony! DiNozzo!" He called, treading water. The current was strong and he was quickly being pulled downstream. He was relieved when Tony's head finally popped up. He was struggling visibly, though, using only his right hand to tread, his head slipping under and bobbing back up as Tim watched.

"Hang on, I'm coming, DiNozzo!" He cried, swimming forward. Why the heck couldn't he have landed upstream from Tony? DiNozzo faltered and went under again, finally resurfaced, and McGee struggled even harder against the current.

"Hey Probie," Tony muttered as McGee finally reached him and hauled his head out of the water by the collar.

"Can you swim at all?" McGee asked, worry evident in his voice. DiNozzo winced as he tried to move his left shoulder, and shook his head.

"Maybe a bit with m' right," he muttered, feebly stroking the water with it, and for the first time Tim could see the damage done to his hand. There were cuts all over, still oozing blood, and three of his fingers were already swelling, bruised purple and black. Tim winced in sympathy.

"We've got to get to shore," he said, though it was unnecessary, and DiNozzo gritted his teeth and nodded. They attempted to swim, though McGee was doing most of the work, towing Tony through the water by his shirt as Tony tried to help as he could.

"Probie?" DiNozzo muttered as he felt the current change. It was getting stronger, their pathetic attempts at swimming accomplishing even less than before.

"Yeah, I feel it," Tim answered tersely, straining to swim harder. A roaring suddenly became faintly audible, growing louder and louder.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Tony hissed through clenched teeth. McGee cursed under his breath as the river picked up speed and the men struggled in vain. Tim stared with wide eyes as he saw the waterfall's drop-off approaching quickly.

"Hang on, DiNozzo," he shouted, grabbing protectively at the wounded senior agent. Tony's eyes were squeezed shut and Tim realized with a pang of guilt that he was doubtlessly hurting his shoulder with the tight grip he had. Not that that would change it. With a wry smile, McGee realized that it was his turn to 'not let go' and he sure as hell wasn't going to. And then they were plunging over the waterfall and Tim's grip was finally loosened and they were falling and yelling, _again_, and McGee found himself wondering how they were going to get out of this one.

xxxxxxx

Pain blasted through McGee's body as he once again burst to the surface of the water. He could tell that something in his right leg was broken, likely by one of the apparently endless rocks he'd tumbled into. This time, he didn't get the reassuring gasp as Tony popped up, didn't get anything, couldn't find any sign of his friend.

"Tony! Where are you? Tony! DiNozzo!" He shouted as loudly as he could, struggling with the effort of treading water with only one good leg. He was impressed that DiNozzo had managed to do as well as he had with one arm. And then, frighteningly, he realized that Tony had indeed surfaced from under the pounding water-face down.

"No! No, crap, damn it!" Tim screamed, swimming forward as quickly as he could, kicking both legs despite the jarring pain that seared upwards from it. The current had slowed down considerably and McGee was able to make it in fairly good time, even with the bad leg. He hurriedly pulled Tony's head out of the water, startled by the pale color of his face, the slight tinge of blue creeping over his lips…No. Not like this, damn it. Tony had just risked his life to save his own, and there was no way he wasn't returning the favor. McGee looked around quickly, spotting a place where the bank was fairly accessible, and uncermoniously hauled an entirely too still Tony to the shore.

"Come on, Tony, come on," Tim muttered as he checked for a breath. There was none. He cursed under his breath as he tilted DiNozzo's chin back, feeling for a pulse in his neck as he did so. It was there, though faint, and Tim took a deep breath to calm his nerves before plugging Tony's nose and carefully sealing his mouth over his. Two breaths, check the pulse, still there…two more breaths, pumping his arms on DiNozzo's still chest, trying to ignore the white tone of Tony's face, the lack of movement so uncharacteristic of the man he'd grown to regard as a brother, the blue that was so reminiscent of another time Tony had nearly died- Was this how DiNozzo had felt, going after Gibbs and Maddy? He found himself muttering things under his breath, things he didn't even register that he was saying, until he realized that he was pleading with someone, anyone, to save the man in front of him. Holy crap, he was actually dying…A sudden burst of water erupted from Tony's mouth and McGee quickly turned him onto his side as he spat up what appeared to be half the river.

"There you go, let it out," McGee murmured, rubbing Tony's back as he coughed, listening to his heart pound in his ears. He knew that they weren't out of the woods yet-literally, he thought as he scanned his surroundings- but the mere fact that DiNozzo was breathing, was _alive_, was enough for him to be fairly calm.

"Hey," Tony wheezed, still spitting up the last of the water.

"Hey. You scared me," Tim answered quietly. "Are you alright?" Tony looked at him blearily.

"You're bleeding," he murmured, and Tim looked down at his leg. _Damn it._

"Yeah, I'm okay. Are you?" He repeated, noting the slightly glassy look of DiNozzo's eyes. Concussion?

"Hit m' head," he muttered finally, and McGee could see that he was cradling his ribs with his good arm. Or at least, his better arm. Between the two of them, they didn't make a whole man. What a day.

"Y' Need to put pressure on your leg," DiNozzo said, feebly attempting to rip his own shirt to use for a bandage before falling back to the ground with a groan. Tim shook his head. Even wounded, he was looking out for him.

"Okay, okay," McGee murmured, stripping off his jacket and ripping a strip to bind around his leg. It looked pretty bad, a shard of bone sticking out of his shin, and he groaned as he wrapped the bandage just below the bone.

"Glad you're pretty much alright," DiNozzo sighed, his eyelids starting to droop. McGee felt himself growing tired too, the blood loss and pain and exhaustion taking its toll. Between the two of them…They were both out within minutes of each other.


	3. Chapter 3

Tony woke up completely disoriented, head pounding as the world spun around him. His chest ached with every painful breath he dragged in, and it took him a second to orient himself enough to realize where he was.

"Oh crap, McGee!" He yelped suddenly, sitting up and gasping with the onslaught of pain it caused. Next to him, McGee was lying on his back, feebly stirring as Tony watched. "Tim? Can you hear me?" He asked anxiously, tapping his hand on the other man's cheek. Tim groaned and blinked up at Tony.

"Hey, there you go," DiNozzo muttered, nodding in satisfaction as the man peered at him blearily.

"Tony," McGee slurred, rubbing a hand across his face. "What the hell happened?" Tony laughed shortly, winced at the pain in his ribs for a second.

"What didn't happen? We fell over the waterfall, and...somehow we ended up here," his voice trailed off, brow furrowed in thought. "I actually don't remember how we got to shore," he murmured. He looked up and saw McGee's face pale.

"Oh, I, uh…I pulled you to shore," he said, looking down. Tony frowned.

"I must have been pretty out of it. I don't remember that at all." Tim's face took on a strange expression, half pained, half relieved.

"Yeah, uh, you could say that," he said, voice quiet, and suddenly DiNozzo realized _exactly_ what had happened. There was a moment of awkward silence before he looked up and caught McGee's eyes.

"Thanks," he said quietly, and Tim nodded his head. They sat in silence for another minute, then Tim awkwardly reached into his pocket and pulled out a dripping phone.

"Let me guess. Not working."

"Yeah. Sorry." Tony didn't even bother trying to fish his out of his pocket, his right hand pounding, his left shoulder aching in earnest now. "So, we should probably try to get out of here or something." McGee nodded, but neither of them made a move to stand. Finally, DiNozzo sighed.

"Okay. I'll get up first, then help you up, okay?" McGee nodded, wincing in sympathy as Tony gritted is teeth and pushed himself off the ground. A small groan escaped from his pressed lips, and what little color had been in his cheeks was quickly drained away.

"Tony? Are you okay?" McGee cried, alarmed at the senior agent's pallor. Tony nodded, sucking in breaths as deeply as he could with his injured ribs.

"Yeah. I'm-good," he gasped breathlessly, and McGee shook his head.

"No you aren't, damn it!" He shouted, even as Tony approached his side and held out his right hand. Tim stared at it. "What the hell do you want me to do with that?" He demanded, and Tony rolled his eyes.

"Helping-you up-Probie," he stuttered, his expression clearly annoyed.

"Tony," Tim said, his voice unable to carry the anger he had felt so strongly only a few moments before. "I can't." The thought of gripping that hand, purple and black and twisted, made him feel sick. Literally sick.

"You have to. Now come on," DiNozzo demanded, shoving the hand more forcefully in Tim's face. McGee swallowed, then gripped it. If Tony had looked pale before, he looked positively white now. Still, he gamely set his jaw and heaved with as much strength as he could. Tim struggled to his feet, crying out as his leg was jostled. He nearly lost his balance, then regained stability as he felt Tony's wet form slide underneath his arms. _Holy crap…_ His right arm was flung across Tony's shoulders, the senior agent feebly attempting to hold him up with his crushed hand, his other hand awkwardly wrapped around McGee's waist.

"Sorry I can't-hold you-up-better," DiNozzo muttered, shifting slightly in an attempt to balance Tim's weight more evenly.

"Damn it Tony, I'm sorry I can't walk alone," McGee hissed, feeling a brief wave of nausea as his leg was bumped.

"Okay, so, here we go," DiNozzo muttered, taking a feeble step forward. The result was so pathetic and almost disheartening that both men had to laugh. It was going to take them a long time to get anywhere.

After a few minutes, the men had managed to make it into the forest. Their plan, sketchy at best, was to follow the river as closely as they could until they hit the highway. Though they knew that it would reach the road eventually, neither had any idea exactly how far away it was.

"McGee?" Tony gasped as they shuffled slowly through the undergrowth.

"Yeah?" Tim replied faintly. Neither of them were really doing very well, both shaky and pale, but they were still going.

"Wanna play 'I Spy?'" McGee almost did a double-take.

"'I Spy?' Really?" He demanded. "Not like there's much to see, DiNozzo."

"Shut up, McGeek. I'll go- first. I spy with- my little eye…" Tim rolled his eyes. "…something green." Tim groaned.

"That branch," he muttered, pointing to a nearby limb.

"No."

"That moss."

"Nope."

"That flower-Tony, this is so stupid! Everything is green!"

"Come on, Probester. Not like- we have anything -better to do."

"Fine. That fern."

"Yes! See-McGeek-knew you could-do it!" Tim shook his head. "Your turn."

"I spy with my little eye…" Tim couldn't help but think that Tony was getting entirely too much enjoyment out of the game, judging by the way he tensed up and craned his head around to see better whatever he was about to say. "…something puke-colored." DiNozzo's head shot up and he glared at Tim.

"You did-not just-go there," he muttered, and McGee grinned. "I-told-you! This shirt- is-puce!"

"Still looks like puke." Tim's laugh was cut short as Tony started coughing, a deep thick noise that startled both of them. Without warning, DiNozzo managed to turn a bit and retched into the vegetation below them. He started to sway precariously, and McGee knew that a lot of pain was in his near future. His thought proved true as Tony's knees buckled and Tim's right leg slammed into the ground though he tried to take the brunt of the impact with his left. He layed there helplessly, gulping in air as he waited for the waves of pain to stop. Finally, he managed to gain enough control to speak.

"Holy hell, Tony! Are you okay?" He gasped.

"Yeah," Tony said, but it was nothing more than a breathy whisper. "Just-give me-a minute."

Tim nodded and tried to pretend he couldn't hear the way Tony's breaths were rattling in his chest, but it was becoming more and more obvious that something was seriously wrong. Hell, DiNozzo couldn't string two words together without gasping for air, and when he had collapsed, McGee had thought…Better not to think about that at all. Damn, he sounded terrible.

"Hey, you're going to be okay," McGee murmured, touching Tony's good shoulder comfortingly.

"Check-your-leg," Tony responded, and Tim cursed when he realized he'd started bleeding again. He seriously needed to start noticing that himself, so DiNozzo could stop worrying about him. Tim couldn't stop himself from smirking. Like that would happen.

"McGeek?" Tony whispered, his voice alarmingly weak.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm here," McGee answered, stroking a wayward piece of hair off Tony's forehead.

"Ducky's-gon-gonna be m-mad," Tony stuttered, his eyes closing.

"No, no, stay with me," Tim murmured, shaking Tony slightly. DiNozzo's eyes cracked open.

"M-mad 'bout m-my lungs," he explained, then allowed his eyelids to close again.

"Tony! Damn it! DiNozzo!" Tim yelled, but no amount of shouting or shaking was going to rouse Tony this time. Sinking down to the ground, McGee didn't even try to stop the tears from flowing.


	4. Chapter 4

"Gibbs," the silver haired agent muttered, putting the phone to his ear.

"Hey boss, our guy's running, we're pursuing on foot," DiNozzo's voice crackled over the phone. "We're heading west, into the forest." Gibbs motioned to Ziva who quickly pulled a u-turn and headed in the other direction.

"Okay, we're coming to back you up," he said as Ziva floored it.

"Thanks boss. Okay, we're heading more northerly now, towards the river," Tony said breathing heavily.

"Our ETA is about fifteen minutes," Gibbs said, but he wasn't all that concerned. After all, Tony and Tim had taken out numerous suspects before. Still, this was just supposed to be an interview, just checking a lead, and if the man was startled, he'd be more dangerous.

"Roger that boss, we-Oh shit!" Gibbs' head snapped up, and Ziva looked over at him in concern before turning to face the road again.

"DiNozzo! Tony! Answer me!" Gibbs shouted, but there was no answer. "Tony! DiNozzo!" Silence. Damn it, he should have known that the man was dangerous, should have realized that they were headed into trouble, should have…

"Gibbs?" Ziva asked, her face slightly pale.

"We have to hurry, Ziva," he answered, looking grimly ahead. "They're in trouble."

xxxxx

They'd gotten to the park quickly, spotted the trailer the suspect had been living out of and the car Tony and Tim had been in, then hurriedly fanned in a western direction. Gibbs had called for backup even before they'd gotten there and as he and Ziva began their search, he found himself checking his watch to see how long they had before help came.

Finally, they could hear cars rolling in and muffled shouts. Ziva went to tell the officers what they'd heard, then rejoined Gibbs. With a frown, she realized that the sun was beginning to go down and she knew that not only would it complicate the search efforts, it would also be hard on the missing agents. _Damn._ It was hard enough now, looking for trampled grass, broken branches, anything. Suddenly she spotted a lot of tamped down grass, _rolling?_, and hurried to the site. She grit her teeth when she realized the implications of what she was seeing. There was fabric stuck in the brambles of a blackberry bush and drops of blood on the leaves, and it was on the very edge of a treacherous precipice overlooking the river.

"Damn it!" She heard Gibbs swear behind her, and Ziva knew that he had made the same conclusion. At least one of them had gone over, and judging by the phone call, probably both. _Damn it. _Gibbs was already yelling for some boats, and Ziva knew that Search and Rescue would likely get involved now. She couldn't help the slight panic that churned in her stomach as she gazed into the churning waters below, worry that she couldn't suppress. They had to find them. They _would _find them.

xxxxx

Consciousness faded in and out like a bad television signal, leaving McGee just as confused as if he was attempting to watch said bad signal. He was aware that it was getting darker, and colder, and he was aware that Tony was sprawled next to him, wheezing, but he didn't know if DiNozzo had woken or how long they'd been there or what he could do to help get them out of this situation. He finally figured he might as well start with Tony.

"Tony?" He groaned, startled at the weird tone to his voice, the obvious strain and fragility. DiNozzo didn't move. "Tony?" Tim repeated, praying for the senior agent to do something. He was startled when Tony complied with his unspoken request, turning unfocused eyes towards him. The man's body was wracked with shivers, teeth chattering suddenly.

"Probe?" He asked, but it was horribly slurred, and Tim frowned.

"Yeah," he muttered, but it was more of a whisper. When had he become so damn weak? The dim light they'd been in was seeping away completely now, and McGee found himself surprisingly frightened by the impending darkness. DiNozzo moaned, and Tim turned his attention back to him.

"You okay?" He asked, but Tony didn't respond. "Tony?" Tim snapped weakly in front of his face, alarmed when DiNozzo continued to stare as though he weren't there. He muttered something and then tried to leverage himself off the ground.

"Whoa, Tony, hold still," McGee said, but he wasn't speaking very loudly and DiNozzo didn't seem to hear him. Was he delirious?

"Gibbs," Tony muttered, crying out in pain but still managing to haul himself into a semi-standing position. "Gotta-get to –him."

"No, he's coming for us, DiNozzo. Sit down," Tim ordered, trying to sound stern and commanding but knowing that he was failing miserably.

"Gibbs," Tony repeated, and to Tim's increasing worry, started stumbling away from him.

"No, Tony!" McGee cried, managing to get his voice louder. DiNozzo continued to slowly inch away from him. Setting his jaw, McGee attempted to rise to his own feet, but he soon collapsed in pain and exertion, sweating and shivering. "Tony!" He knew he should be following, should be trying to stop his fellow agent, his _friend_, but the pain and the blood loss was catching up to him and he was dizzy and shaking and _maybe this is shock _and it was darker now and Tony was fading away into the darkness in front of him, and what the hell was he supposed to do? The decision was taken out of his hands when his eyes rolled back in his head and he fell completely still, the silence broken only by the sounds of Tony's wheezing and his stumbling progress.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: So sorry this took a little while to get out…Thanks for all the reviews/alerts/favorites, and enjoy!

xxxxx

Ziva rubbed a tired hand over her forehead, pausing for the briefest of moments to catch her breath and try to regain some composure. The search had proved frustrating so far; only she, Gibbs, and a few other searchers were in the forest at the moment, the rest focusing on getting the search boats around the waterfall on foot. Of course, neither Gibbs nor Ziva were was willing to just sit around while the boats were being moved, so they had continued down themselves. Darkness was falling quickly over them, and as Ziva flicked her flashlight on, a sense of dread sank into the pit of her stomach.

"Ziva," Gibbs' voice said, surprisingly harsh and startling her out of her ponderings. "We're going to find them." She knew that she shouldn't be amazed, anymore, at how well Gibbs could read her, but she was anyway. Shaking her head, Ziva sighed. She knew they would find them; she just wasn't sure what condition they would be in. She did know one thing, if they didn't find them by morning, they would start combing the river. And she was not about to let that happen.

They'd looked for a likely place that the agents could have clambered out if –no, when- they'd made it out of the river following the waterfall, had found a small patch of bank that would have been fairly accessible in their presumably weakened states. They'd been searching here for close to 45 minutes now, and Ziva was beginning to suspect that they were in the wrong place. Standing again on the shore of the river, she scanned her flashlight on the opposite bank. She could hear men shouting to her right as they struggled with the boats, could see bobs and flashes of light through the trees, but willed herself to focus solely on her current mission.

Sweeping slowly and methodically along the bank, she peered for any signs, any possible places for them to have gone. It took her a while to notice the small section of bank that was sandy, gently sloping upwards from a shallow spot in the river that seemed easy to reach. Beyond it was more forest, but for Ziva, that one patch of shore was enough.

"Gibbs, I am crossing," she announced, even as she rolled up her pants.

"Like hell you are, David," Gibbs growled in response, coming up behind her and frowning. "It's dark, and that river is cold and strong. Wait for the boats."

"Gibbs, I am almost certain they are over there," Ziva protested, looking resolutely at her boss. Gibbs sighed.

"Why do you think that?" He asked quietly, his voice full of resignation and worry so that Ziva frowned, realizing just how tired Gibbs was.

"A gut feeling," she responded, and Gibbs looked at her, this time obviously trying to understand her. She wasn't sure if what he saw satisfied him, but he gave her the slightest ghost of a smile before shaking his head.

"You still need a boat, but I'm going with you," he said, and Ziva nodded gratefully, breathing a sigh of relief as she saw the men with the boats coming down next to them. Neither she nor Gibbs bothered waiting for them, but went and retrieved one to use themselves, paddling efficiently across the river and reaching the other shore quickly. Ziva's hunch was proved correct almost immediately, signs of their being there all over…blood, a bit of torn fabric, a useless, discarded phone. And after that, it was easy, really, to follow the blood trail to the broken and crumpled form of Tim McGee.

"McGee!" She and Gibbs said it, shouted it at the same time, running to the still man's side, Gibbs barking terse commands into his radio. Emotions ran wild for Ziva, relief, worry, fear, urgency, and where was Tony? She gently shook his shoulder, hoping for some response, wincing when he groaned loudly.

"I'm sorry Tim, can you hear me? It's Ziva, and Gibbs. You're okay now," she said soothingly, and was rewarded when he blinked up at her. McGee struggled to turn himself over onto his back, which Ziva took as a sign that she could help him in that endeavor without hurting him too badly. She wasn't ready for the agonizing scream that came with it, though, and it shook her to the core. Even Gibbs looked startled. As Tim tried to get his breathing back under control, Ziva took in the blood-soaked bandages, the raw shard of bone protruding from the leg, the pale cast of the agent's face.

"Zee?" He murmured, voice painfully ragged. Ziva nodded, absently brushing a strand of hair out of his face, and Tim groaned. "Leg…hurts."

"I know, McGee," Ziva said, noting with worry the shivers that were wracking the agent's body. She could see the look in Gibbs' eye, knew what he needed…

"Tim," she said as firmly as she could while still sounding gentle. "Where is Tony?" Tim's eyes widened and he let out a gasp of pain as he started shaking in Ziva's light hold.

"Tried to stop 'im," he whispered, words catching painfully in his throat. "Wanted t' find Gibbs. Out 'f his head…" His voice trailed off weakly, and Ziva was disheartened by the way his eyelids were fluttering. Damn, he was in bad shape.

"Hang on, okay, Tim? We told the rescue team your location, they're gonna come get you and take you to the medevac. You're okay, just stay awake." She tapped his cheek, hoping for some sign that he heard, but the way his eyes were trying to focus and clearly failing did not bode well. Gibbs made eye contact and nodded his head, and Ziva knew that he was going after Tony, and suddenly the responsibility of making sure Tim was okay was squarely on her shoulders, and damn if it wasn't nearly overwhelming. The rescue team was coming as Ziva stroked Tim's hand-she thought it would be awkward, it probably _should_ have been awkward, but she didn't care- and talked to him in an effort to keep him aware.

"Didn't let go," he murmured, and Ziva had to lean in to hear what he said, but smiled when she heard it.

"Of course you didn't," she said soothingly. "You wouldn't." Tim shook his head, obviously upset.

"Tony. Didn't let go," he wheezed, glaring at her as if to make sure she knew what he was getting at.

"Okay, I understand, McGee. Tony's going to be fine. Gibbs has gone to find him, and you know how stubborn Gibbs is. Tony isn't going anywhere." Somehow, her words rang hollow in her own ears, but they still seemed to comfort Tim to a degree as he started breathing a bit easier. And as Ziva held McGee's hand as the medics started an IV and wrapped him in blankets, she prayed that she hadn't just told the biggest lie of her life.


	6. Chapter 6

Gibbs knew that tracking Tony should not be as hard as it was proving to be. He had assumed that the trail of a man injured the way he was would leave an obvious trail, and that had proven true, for a time; broken baranches and crushed leaves and the occasional blood spatter had lead the way. Now, though, Gibbs found himself in a clearing and not an inkling of where to go. He could hear the river gurgling somewhere in the darkness and prayed that Tony hadn't found his stumbling way into it. A sense of hopelessness threatened to overwhelm him for a moment as he scanned the ground with his small flashlight, aware that he could very well be missing any sign that might have been left, but he pushed the feelings down, focused on the task at hand. He would never give up on DiNozzo. Ever.

Painful memories rose to the surface as he remembered the other losses he'd suffered; flashes of Kate and Paula and Jenny that left him with a sinking feeling and renewed determination that Tony would not be added to the list. Shouts and blips of light filtered through the trees behind him and he realized that Ziva must have sent them after him, since he had run off without telling anyone. Crap, he really was a mess. His breath caught in his throat when he realized that he had seen a spot of blood, had nearly passed right over it. It glistened sickly in the light of his torch and he stood up, casting the beam around the spot carefully, peering intently at the grass. Another one. They were small, though, and he figured Tony wasn't bleeding too badly. Or he'd bled so much that there wasn't much left to bleed. He again pushed the thought back, and with growing trepidation realized that as he followed the trail of trampled grass, the sound of the river grew louder.

_No, no DiNozzo, damn…_He hurried, wanting to break into a full run but reining himself in to make sure he didn't lose the trail. And now the river was in sight, the sound of the rushing water pounding in his ears nearly as loudly as his heart but not quite, and the crushed blades of grass continued their march towards the edge, occasionally swerving but never leaving their deadly course. _Damn it!_ Then a combined sigh of relief and gasp of horror that ultimately left Gibbs breathless as he spotted the still, crumpled form on the very edge of land, one hand lying in the water, face pressed into wet sand.

"Tony!" Gibbs shouted and heard the responding shouts of the other rescuers, but they faded out with the rest of the world as Gibbs' view narrowed to the unmoving form of his senior agent. He was alive, he wasn't dead, his luck hadn't finally run out. Gibbs was startled at the range of emotions running through him, unaccustomed to the ferocity of the feelings that were making his actions less rational and calm than usual. When the hell had Tony become such a vital part of his life? When had he begun to adopt him into his family, as the son he'd never had? His musings came to an abrupt halt when he dropped to his knees at DiNozzo's side. Easing the limp agent gently onto his back, Gibbs winced as he saw the awkward angle of the shoulder, the swelling of the fingers, the lump on the head, the rattle of the breaths…the breaths. He was breathing. Gibbs sighed a long sigh of relief, running a weary hand through his silver hair even as he checked Tony's pulse. Weak, fast, in shock. Gibbs quickly stripped his jacket off and tucked it around DiNozzo's torso, absently cupping a hand to Tony's cheek.

"You there Tony?" He asked, hopeful though he wasn't expecting anything. He didn't get anything. Tony's face was pale and slicked with sweat, chilled under Gibbs' hand. Hearing the rattle again, Gibbs gently eased the agent's body against his own in an attempt to take pressure off of aching ribs and clogging lungs. More people were crowding around them now, a few of them obviously medics. As they checked Tony without trying to move him away from Gibbs, the special agent found himself again lost, this time in hurried movements and snatches of meaningless words. They were clearly worried, one of them shouting into his radio that they needed to hurry, but Gibbs could have told them that. DiNozzo shivered under his touch and he instinctively wrapped his arms gently around the injured man.

Before he knew it, a group of people were approaching with McGee's still form on a stretcher even as medics started IV lines for Tony, then Gibbs was listening to the welcoming sound of rotor blades swirling as a helicopter descended in front of them. McGee was placed carefully inside, then Tony was taken from his arms and laid next to the probie. Gibbs shook his head as Ziva came to stand next to him, both knowing that there was no room for them to ride with the wounded agents. Still, Gibbs was reluctant to let DiNozzo out of his sight, worried about McGee who apparently had lost consciousness, wanted to be there to bark orders at the men should they need it, wanted to be there to make them hang on. Ziva's hand tightened around his arm, and he realized that he shouldn't be surprised anymore at how well she read him now. Watching the helicopter lift off the ground, Gibbs turned to head back to the car, Ziva at his side. Her presence was surprisingly comforting, and he could feel her drawing the same comfort from him. As he started up the car and spun out of the parking lot even more erratically than usual, he realized that the journey to the hospital would be one of the longest of his life.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Sorry it took me a bit to get this the way I wanted. Hope it works…

________

Damn. Gibbs wiped a weary hand across his eyes, wishing that he could open them to a reality other than the one before him. Tony was nestled in a hospital bed, _again_, and this time the sound of a ventilator's mechanical hissing filled the room as well. He wasn't sure it had ever been this bad. It hadn't exactly looked good when DiNozzo had the plague (it was the _plague_ after all) but even at its worst point, Tony had been breathing on his own. Rough, yes, unsteady, yes, but still self-directed. Now, the man was completely, entirely, horrifyingly still, the only movement coming from the damn ventilator. It had been too damn close.

After being stabilized, McGee had been rushed into surgery to repair his leg and to stop the bleeding that had started up again in all the movement of getting him to the chopper; he'd needed blood transfusions and was still listed in serious condition as he battled the effects of exposure and blood loss.

Tony had been even worse. Broken ribs thankfully hadn't punctured his lung, but had still managed to bruise the right lung, making already taxed breathing even more difficult. Pneumonia had settled into both lungs, had eventually gotten to the point where he hadn't even been able to breathe on his own. He'd gone into full respiratory arrest on the helicopter. Then there was the shoulder -grade 3 separation that required surgery- and the hand –four shattered fingers, one compound, also requiring surgery- and now Tony was lying entirely too still in a bed in the ICU. Gibbs sighed, knowing that his time was nearly up and that he'd be getting kicked out soon.

"Hey DiNozzo," Gibbs said finally, reaching a hand out to gently cup Tony's still cheek. "You'd better get your ass outta that bed soon, or you'll have me to answer to." His senior agent made no movement and Gibbs felt somewhat abashed that he had been half hoping for one.

"Agent Gibbs," a nurse said, entering the room and looking at him with a mixture of annoyance and sadness. He'd been camped there for hours the past day and a half, and he suspected that she knew that he spent his other time at McGee's bedside. "I have to ask you to leave now." Gibbs nodded.

"I know," he muttered, wincing ever so slightly as tired joints ached from their awkward position. The nurse scowled.

"When was the last time you slept, agent?" She asked, and Gibbs didn't answer, just glared at her. He was somewhat surprised when she didn't back down.

"Dunno," he answered finally, and the scowl deepened.

"You need to go home," she said firmly, hands on her hips, and there was a momentary stare down. Finally, Gibbs shrugged, too tired and overwhelmed to want to fight with her for long. He turned to leave and couldn't help but smile when the nurse's voice drifted after him.

"…and don't you go down to McGee's room, I'll have the nurse down there look out for you…" Gibbs shook his head and went directly to McGee's room.

"Hey boss," Tim said from the hospital bed, and Gibbs was relieved and happy just to see him awake, though he was clearly far from well. Dark rings under his eyes and the unnatural pallor of his skin coupled with the slightly raised and heavily bandaged leg made that clear. Still, McGee managed a slight smile as Gibbs entered.

"How ya feeling?" Gibbs asked quietly, sitting in the chair next to the bed. McGee shrugged.

"'Bout as good as I can be," he answered. He looked at Gibbs pleadingly. "Tony?" Gibbs looked him in the eye.

"He's seen better days," he answered honestly, "but he's gonna be okay." They both knew that that wasn't entirely true, that Gibbs did not, in fact, know that, but neither said anything about it. McGee looked down at the dull white sheets on the bed.

"He wouldn't let go of me, boss," he muttered, and Gibbs thought there were probably tears gathering in his eyes. "He wouldn't. He…He sacrificed himself to help me."

"It's his job, McGee," he answered gruffly, but they both knew that it was way more than that.

"Gibbs," McGee began, his voice trailing off uncertainly. "Gibbs, how the hell do I repay that?" Gibbs looked at him for a long moment, steel blue eyes seemingly penetrating Tim to the core.

"You don't give up on him, McGee," he answered finally. "I'm gonna go home and shower, get a few hours of shuteye before I can see him again." He stood up and stretched his arms above his head, smiled when he saw the cards and flowers that could only mean Abby had come and that had been absent from Tony's stark ICU room.

"Abby came by?" He asked, eyebrows raised, and McGee nodded.

"And Ziva and Ducky. I think Palmer came while I was sleeping." Gibbs smiled a bit, reflecting on just how tight the bond between them had become. They really were like a family.

"They want to know when they can see Tony," Tim continued, and Gibbs' smile faded.

"Don't know yet, McGee. But you'll be the first to know when he wakes up, okay?" Gibbs didn't miss the hopeful expression that crossed Tim's face. "Get some rest. I'll be back up to see you in a few hours." McGee nodded and settled as comfortably as he could with the IV and raised leg, and Gibbs left the room feeling both hopeful and extremely worried. Damn. What a day.


	8. Chapter 8

_Not the plague, this is not the damn plague,_Tim thought tiredly to himself, idly scratching at his cast. His leg was stretched out in front of him as he sat uncomfortably in the poorly padded chair in Tony's room, the dim lights allowing him to barely see the still man before him. DiNozzo was out for the moment, worn down to exhaustion after painfully coughing up mucus for a solid two minutes. By the end of it, his face had been red with effort and pain, his eyes watering even as he tried to smile for McGee's benefit. It was so reminiscent of the last time that McGee felt his throat tighten every time he heard the ragged gasps for air and barking coughs. He knew it wasn't the plague, but damn it, it sure as hell felt like it.

Looking up, Tim saw Gibbs looking at Tony with as much concern –maybe even more- as he was. Every bout of coughing seemed to take more and more out of DiNozzo, and his fever had stubbornly refused to go down. He was pale and sweaty, the oxygen mask obscuring his mouth and nose. At least he was off the vent now. McGee hated to admit how relieved he had been that it had come out before he'd been allowed upstairs, feeling in some way guilty for not having the stomach to handle the injuries that had been sustained, after all, in a desparate attempt to save his life. Well, not like he could have changed it anyway. Tony stirred restlessly on the bed, eyes moving quickly beneath closed lids. Gibbs reached a hand out and let it rest on Tony's good arm, muttering something under his breath that McGee couldn't hear. Something he didn't want to hear. It seemed almost like he was invading something personal and intimate between the two men, between the father and son.

"McGee. You look wiped," Gibbs said suddenly, looking up from Tony's body to make steely eye contact.

"I'm fine, boss," Tim answered automatically, but his voice wavered a bit, betraying how tired he actually felt. Gibbs' face softened.

"Go home, McGee. You've been here all day." Tim finally shrugged and made a grab for his crutches. Gibbs leapt up and handed them to him.

"Call Abby. She's been waiting all day to take you home," Gibbs said, and didn't miss McGee's raised eyebrow and look of confusion. "I think she's going to take you to get ice cream," he explained. "Don't tell her I told you." McGee grinned and nodded, hobbling slowly out of the room. Gibbs watched him go and settled back down in his chair.

"DiNozzo, hey," he murmured as Tony's eyes blinked open to show tiny slits of green. DiNozzo tried to say something, but it came out muffled and incoherent, and Gibbs leaned closer.

"McGee?" He should have known.

"He's doing great, Tony. Leg's healing up well though he'll have to have a bit of therapy, he got out of the hospital two days ago. Unlike you. You look like crap, DiNozzo." The pasty white skin tinted fever bright, various tubes, oxygen mask, and bandages combined to make Tony look downright pathetic. Not that he'd ever tell him that. DiNozzo gave a contented sigh and allowed his eyelids to flutter closed again. Gibbs frowned. Five days later, and Tony still couldn't keep his eyes open for longer than five minutes, and even that was rare.

Gibbs had to quell the emotions that threatened to rise up as he looked at his senior agent. He knew that this could be it. That this could damage the fragile lungs beyond repair, that the shoulder was still in danger of healing improperly and that it would likely cause pain for years to come, that this could be _it._ That this could be the end of DiNozzo's career. He prayed that it wouldn't come to that, that Tony would rebound as he always did, grinning and irritating as always, but at the moment it didn't look good.

With a sigh, Gibbs acknowledged that it was entirely possible that his worries were premature. That Tony was still in danger, still in serious condition as his weakened body struggled to fight off the infection and illness that had seemed to settle in with no intention of leaving. That the fluctuating body temperature, hovering consistently between 101 and 104, could very well strain his senior agent too far. That the mucus could build and build until breathing was impossible and he drowned in his own damn body fluids. Gibbs forced himself to stop thinking about the possibilities as he realized that his hands were shaking badly.

When the hell had things become so messed up? Not for the first time, Gibbs wondered how much longer his agent could handle this, how much longer _he _could handle it, and when the feelings of guilt, the feelings of not being there when his men needed him would abate. Maybe never.

A sudden feeling of claustrophobia overwhelmed him and Gibbs had to get out of there. Standing, he stretched his arms above his head and wandered out into the hallway. Damn, he needed a coffee. It didn't take him long to find the nearest pot, though it was terrible by anyone's standard, porsitively repugnant by his, and he took a long sip before starting back to Tony's room. He nearly dropped his cup at the sight that greeted him. A group of doctors were around DiNozzo's bed, one of them pumping his chest as another injected something into his IV port.

"What the hell?" He barked loudly, striding to the door and standing there, stunned. A doctor shoved him out of the way as the blaring alarms finally stopped and the crowd dispersed from Tony's bedside.

"What the hell just happened?" Gibbs repeated, glaring at the doctor who stood in front of him. The doctor actually smiled at him.

"Agent DiNozzo's fever decreased very rapidly and his blood pressure dropped," he said, and Gibbs felt the blood drain from his face. The doctor looked at him in concern. "Sir? Sit down before you pass out." Gibbs looked at him, tempted to ask the smaller man if he knew who the hell he was dealing with, then realized with surprise that he actually needed to sit down. He collapsed heavily into the offered chair and looked up at the man.

"He's going to be okay, Gibbs," the doctor said kindly. "His pressure's rising nicely and his temp's back down, almost to normal. He's still got the congestion to deal with, but that will go away with time. He's going to be okay." Gibbs was startled to find tears in his eyes, even more startled to realize that he didn't care. DiNozzo was going to be okay.

"Hey Tony," he said quietly as he entered the room, once again resuming his position at his agent's bedside. "Damn near gave me a coronary." He gently stroked Tony's forehead with his thumb, pleased at the coolness he felt, remembered a time when he had stroked Kelly's forehead the same way. Gibbs smiled to himself as DiNozzo nuzzled into the touch, a light smile playing at his lips. Everything was going to be okay.

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A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! I think that's it, maybe an epilogue…


	9. Chapter 9

Tony got up slowly, inching painfully and laboriously towards the bathroom. Still-healing ribs screamed at him and he grunted as he was forced to pause to lean against the wall for a breather. He'd only taken ten steps. _Damn._ He stood awkwardly, one arm in a sling, the other in a cast that ran halfway up his forearm, cradling his ribs as he took the deepest breaths he could manage. He was staying at Gibbs' house, had been out of the hospital for three days, and on his first day alone he was finding it frustratingly difficult to do anything. Not that he'd been expecting anything else.

Finally deciding that he was ready to take another shot at walking, he gingerly eased himself up the wall to a standing position and stared dejectedly at the bathroom door, another fifteen steps away at least. He could do this. Holy crap, when had he gotten so damn weak? He had only taken three feeble shuffles when the door knocked. Tony didn't even try to bite back the groan he felt coming. The front door was another twenty steps in the opposite direction. He started taking painful steps toward the door, cursing under his breath the whole way. If it was a salesman, he was going to lose it…

"Tony? DiNozzo, you there?" Not a salesman. McGee.

"Yeah," Tony called, but it was breathy and weak. He cleared his throat. "Yeah."

"Are you…are you decent?" _What the hell?_

"What the hell?"

"Are you…naked?" DiNozzo laughed, winced at the pain in his ribs, and laughed again.

"No, McGeek, I'm not damn naked," he answered with as much strength as he could. Why was Probie so worried about him being naked anyway? Not like he would answer the door in the buff. Scratch that. He totally would, just to see the younger agent's face.

"I'm coming in," McGee called, and Tony raised an eyebrow.

"You're what?" He asked. Crap, he needed to sit down again.

"I'm coming in," McGee repeated, and now there was the unmistakeable sound of a key turning in the lock. The door opened just as DiNozzo lost the little bit of strength he had left and slid gracelessly to the floor, wincing as his shoulder was jarred.

"Well. You look like crap," McGee muttered as he hobbled in on his crutches. He didn't miss the look of utter confusion on Tony's face and shrugged. "I'm not much use at work," he explained. "Gibbs sent me to look after you. Ordered me to take a few more days off and…to spend them with you."

"Well that's just peachy," Tony muttered. "Now I have a babysitter." Tim shook his head.

"Think of it more like a friend to keep you company." Tony didn't look convinced. "I brought movies," Tim said finally, holding up a bag from Blockbuster. DiNozzo narrowed his eyes.

"What'd you get?" He asked suspiciously.

"Taxi and The Godfather," McGee replied, face hopeful as he waited for Tony's response. DiNozzo finally nodded thoughtfully.

"Good choices, Probie," he said. They stood there awkwardly for a minute, Tim leaning on his crutches, Tony looking up at him from the floor before DiNozzo finally spoke.

"So, uhh. Do you wanna help me get up or something?" It was hard for Tony to ask for help, equally hard for Tim to realize that he hadn't offered any.

"Oh, yeah, hold on," he muttered, hobbling quickly towards Tony, depositing the movies on the couch. "This might be a bit awkward."

"Yeah, I figured," DiNozzo murmured. Tim stopped in front of him, carefully dropping one crutch to the floor and holding out his hand. Tony hesitantly looked at it, surprised when McGee carefully gripped his upper arm above the cast and pulled him up. For a split second, both of them were off balance and for a embarassing moment, Tony was actually scared he was going to fall, but then Tim dropped his other crutch without hesitation and grabbed DiNozzo's arm with his other hand. Hopping on one foot, he carefully eased Tony up and grinned at him.

"I wasn't going to let you go," he said quietly, and in that moment, no other words were necessary. The gratitude and affection were obvious and DiNozzo smiled as they made their slow way to the couch. As they settled in to watch The Godfather, both men felt like everything was finally okay. It was a good feeling.

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-Fin-

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A/N: Thank you so much for the great reviews I've been getting! I really do appreciate them and hopefully I'll have another story out before too long.


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